So Unlike a Dream
by Laerkstrein
Summary: Like an addict, she just kept coming back. And he was the substance of choice.


****Disclaimer:**** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**So Unlike a Dream  
><strong>

**Prompt:** _Before the Sun _by Shannon Curtis

**A/N: **Written for LJ. (Also, I laugh at **St. Harridan's **embarrassment over the fic **Her Poisoned Haven**.)

* * *

><p>She would come, just like she always did. Her ruse was so obvious, it would take an idiot to <em>not <em>see through it. It was a damn good thing the majority of his subordinates were, in fact, idiots. In terms of research and programming, they were brilliant and irreplaceable. The same couldn't be said for social situations and the like. It was a miracle that they hadn't realized what he was hiding, aside from Akon, who seemed to have caught on just enough to be suspicious. But it didn't matter. Even if Akon _did _figure it out, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. A century of working with the man had taught Mayuri that much.

Even in the dead of night, he knew she'd have an excuse to show. Her reasons didn't even have to be legitimate. They just had to be enough to fool everyone else. And, even if they didn't, no one would dare question her, a captain. Except, maybe, him. He always went well out of his way to find some reason to question the higher authority. At first, the situation at hand hadn't been too obvious. But, as the weeks passed, he began to notice the sudden change in her bi-weekly medication runs. Rather than showing up twice a month, her routine had become more of a weekly thing. When he was around during such errands, he would notice the tremors that had surfaced in her hands, often resulting in a rather clumsy hand-off to whomever was filling her order at the time.

Of course, her constant requests for medications were solely for the sake of keeping their liaison quiet. It would have been suspicious if she had arrived without a believable purpose.

Now, he was in the basements of the Department, watching the flames on the wall as the candles Nemu had left died out one by one, encasing him in darkness. He'd finished his work hours before, and had decided to wait around to see if she'd show. But it was a pointless thing, wondering and waiting. As he was the cause of her descent, she wouldn't be able to keep herself away. He was the harbinger of her dark addiction. Probably the most welcoming thought he'd had all day.

It was amusing, having watched her behavioral patterns change, even slightly. She'd seemed to have fallen a bit, having stooped so low as to willingly associate herself with one so unbalanced as himself. And, in turn, she'd altered him, forcing a more neutral presence upon him. A win-lose situation if he'd ever seen one.

The soft sound of the closing door reached him, and he smirked as he felt her kneel on the floor beside him, pressing an ear against his back. She emitted a soft sigh that seemed to express that her soul was soothed by the rhythmic beating of his heart. As if he even had one. Believing him to be asleep, her hands began to wander, her very touch stained with the sensation of lust. He flinched, causing her to stand, her face hovering above his own with a knowing smile upon her lips. He'd been found out. Her hair slipped loose of the weak knot she'd tied it in, falling gently across her face as she slid her body over his. Eager hands began tracing the lean muscles of his chest, outlining bone as she attempted to memorize every inch of him, pressing her lips to his own.

She tasted of honey and buttermilk, and the scent of fresh sunflowers was wrapped in her hair. Now was a strange time to be wondering, but he couldn't help himself. It had all seemed a mistake at first. Nothing more than a moment of sheer impulse and convenience, as he was, by far, the lowest bastard the Soul Society had ever seen. But she had always come back, easily dashing those first thoughts away; rendering them as inconsequential as a cloud of smoke in a summer breeze. It was all real, and it was all there.

Hands teased, sliding over tender flesh, earning moans muffled by the combative kiss. There was nothing but this. No questions buzzing about within his head, nor genius ideas to distract him. All that was there was the matter at hand. To enjoy what had so graciously been offered. It was torturous as she broke off, soft lips moving to press against bone, flicking out to coax tremors from him. He clenched his teeth as her hips slid downward, putting just enough pressure to bring stars to his vision. She was as the damned forest nymphs of legend, wicked in the way they tormented man with carnal desires.

And she was enjoying every second of it. A welcome, albeit uncharacteristic, turn of events.

It was strange, this feeling. Like a flame had been lit within him, searing and comforting. Not once had such a thing existed, and now, what with Retsu so intimate and addicted to her chosen substance, he couldn't bring himself to break it off. Without her, it would just be empty again.

* * *

><p>If I could surround this with little hearts, I would.<p> 


End file.
